The hours are overwhelmed in the summertime, the dreams are dragged sleepy. A drop of water it dries over petals. The sadness it's walking, along the dry powder, and one forgets the time. A kiss slips with the echo. There's no rain which refreshes the uncertainty of a desire.

It's riding the Nights between what was and will not be; between what is and is not, between the today without yesterday. It rides the pain, vomiting the poverty, the uncertainty of a home without sun. The blood spilled between dream, debilitates to the heart with a dying scream.

No silence when it beats the time: Between your soft and fresh lips, in the endless yesterday of the today. Present, today, now! It shouts the city; ranting, one listens to the big bang of a pendulum; in a clock that it doesn't mark …: Nothing!

What ideas, what anxiety! Insomnia without nights, without finding the anxious arms of your body. few truths stay, between the death and the life; hugging in an agonizing desire.

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